Living this life is like..

Living this life is like
Failed suicide in the shadow of death
You see not what I perceive beyond
Not but your juxtaposition is my art!

Make light of this deep wound
I pray thee my brother
From whence this offence did pierce thee
The same hath enlightened a tale

Bid thee thine ear that we may cheer
Your brilliant success has brought upon me
Near upon Macbeth reliving a Machiavellian
Chess, strokes the sexual assault upon my person
Written for the stage Stars crossed
Deep homecomings hurt, we are given
Freedom to unfold and embrace Grace

Upon barren farrows forgotten
Parallel lives driving the same
Spear, shatters the men in the mirror
Blurred memories at warp speed
Transcending through pain
Brilliant light realises we are our tears, one fear
You and I are the same your art life is my west gate keepers
whose missing,
my juxtaposition of a model suicide slayer

RKB

See Robbie perform at ‘Bogong Spoken Word’ part of the Emerging Writers Festival, Melbourne

 

PERFORMANCE

Bogong Spoken Word

Traditionally, when the Bogong moth swarmed in the cool regions of Mount Bogong during summer, local tribes would gather to conduct ceremonies and feast on this protein-rich food source.

Six First Nations writers have been honing their fierce and frantic spoken word pieces – curated by Jane Harrison, Blakwriters’ group facilitator – the Bogong is a celebration and sharing from master storytellers. Feast on stories with us at this special event, and leave entertained and edified.

With: Kat Clarke, Hannah Donnelly, Nayuka Gorrie, Maurial Spearim, Robbie Batzke, Timmah Ball

Presented by the Blak Writers’ Group

http://www.emergingwritersfestival.org.au/event/bogong-spoken-word/

 

 

Robbie in “Stories from the Ground Up”. Part of the Yirramboi First Nations Arts Festival 2017.

On Saturday 12 May  at the STEPS OF PARLIAMENT HOUSE Robbie and other members of the Blakwriters Group shared their stories in ‘Stories from the Ground Up!’ as part of the Yirramboi First Nation Arts Festival.

Many writers come together to tell one tale. The Blakwriters group ‘decolonise’ the city scribing their micro stories of cultural connection, protest, loss and belonging.

Here is Robbie’s poem from the day;

Change

Everyday is confusion

Living is an illusion

Culture is deposition

Communities of destruction

Gubbaments executing legislation

Law is calcification

The politic that kills

is the vehicle that drives through confusion

breaking the illusion

the devision of visions become one

communities be centres of new beginnings

the provision, safe within solid lores of salvation

empathy is what heals

My people my people

Let your people go

Awareness is a public liability

The price of response

able to be, not to be

Lives are lost for an eye

Left high and dry

The rain gives life

The deserts cry

The wind forgives

Change

Cool clouds gather in the sky

RKB

If only one could see the writing on the wall that’s inside my head

If only one could see

the writing on the wall

inside my head.
One tribe is needed

Empty minds full of lead

Enter halls to see Justice fall dead

Understand dreams, but only sorrow screams

Let me go, the last dice throws

The hopes to do good

Bush, fires now in your neighbour hood!

Whose Bad or Good, the wood for the fire.

Wires flash over-loading screens

in the palm of your hand.

The rush brushed understanding still minds a dreamtime,

the just Flat-lines!

If only one could see

the writing on the wall

inside my head?

Visions on a mission

Taking no prisoners am captivated and dedicated

devoted on my knees!

Got crumbs to feed? Attack dogs ready?

The lead is in our need for the crimes seen on TV

Stolen souls sold divided states upsets the dead.

Jets treams criss cross, to and fro

the Globe is cooking on the stove.

Like bullshit don’t think

but keep 7 habits discreet

The rhythm of walking feet

The refiners fire pouring Gold

the flow goes where-ever

it goes never to gather dust!

Moor my type but the engineering kind of mind

Orchestral moves in the Dark.

Why building arks smashed.

In this state of mind

My kin are undone

when the crown had come a new lie was born.

Swamp land no buildings is this project crown land?

The Thames is full of shit

oh Botany Bay the new way.

RKB

Robbie is on a WalkAbout Forgiveness

Support Robbie as he walks across Australia!! 

https://www.gofundme.com/walkaboutforgiveness

 

 

Change2020vision

For whom shall we tell ‘Change2020vision it’s time to sell, here we are cutting corners to save the budget and not minds. Stretched and stressed is not getting any sleep, steel jobs on decline are apple seeds of discontent.
The design of your future blows away the dream that tells their stories in warpped time. Done and dusted and set adrift our memories blissed we sit at the wishing well. Too long and now we must pay the bill the toll playing the wishing well.

RKB

The Fuse is lit

The fuse is lit and its simply strait up and down. Spiritually gifted communities rife at night called fighting crime; crew’s in search of crawling blood all over the neighborhood.
Soulmates communion of letting go with strength fusing capacities with brilliant rock’s on fire:missiles of mass destruction.

 

RKB